Season of Gifts (Neighborly Affection #8)

27. Henry

Chapter twenty-seven

Henry

H enry closed the cover and smoothed his hand across the back of the book. The old hardbacks granted a tactile pleasure, the grainy ridges of the fibers a delicate web against his skin. Though they’d amassed a sizeable stack at Mother’s bedside in the conservatory, the library upstairs held countless more. “Shall we choose another? Or perhaps you’d care for a bit of music before bed?”

Mother reached out, her grasp thin but wiry around his wrist. “What I would like is for my darling son to get some real rest. Sleeping on the chair isn’t good for you, Henry.” Said the woman with faint shadows beneath her own eyes. He had no way to assess how often she lay awake in the night, nor what distressing thoughts kept her so. “You heard the doctor today. I’m recovering well. I should resume daily activities.”

“Slowly and cautiously resume.” She’d discarded the most important caveats. Parenting a parent could be particularly challenging when that parent was obstinate and accustomed to her independence. “And as I recall, the stairs are still ill-advised. Would you have me a floor away if you need assistance in the night?”

“I would have you home with your beloved spouses if I could.” Pale green wavered as her eyes watered. She squeezed his wrist. “Once again I am stealing away what ought to be a happy and carefree time.”

He suppressed a shudder, the vibration running along his bones as he projected a neutral mask. The past floated too close to the surface; reopening long-healed wounds this late in the evening would help no one sleep more soundly.

“You are stealing nothing, Mother. My care is freely given, and I have every confidence in Alice and Jay’s abilities to weather a few days apart, newly wed or not.”

Or he had, until speaking to Alice this afternoon. Her departure was not her fault, but it was egregiously unfortunate. Any additional tension could cause fraying emotional threads to snap. Jay, with the greatest amount of upheaval these last few months, would almost certainly be the one to feel the effects most keenly. Though traveling so close to home would be painful and upsetting for Alice as well. And Mother had no one else to manage her care.

Their threads tangled in his mind, forming a growing knot of needs he could not meet. A heavy brushstroke of cheerfulness coated the strain. “Besides, we shall be seeing them soon. I’ll fetch them up Saturday”—perhaps sooner, once he’d spoken with Jay—“and we’ll stay a week or more. You’ll have quite the full house for the holiday.”

Robert might finally deign to make an appearance. A silent grunt pierced the headache forming between his eyes. Such uncharitable thoughts about his brother were a sign of his exhaustion. He’d spoken to his sister-in-law almost daily, and they’d agreed a visit from the boys would best wait for Christmas. The greatest danger had passed; Robert needn’t cut his trip short.

Mother scrunched her shoulders toward her ears and let them sink with a pleased sigh. “And that will be a great joy. But don’t imagine your mother can’t see past that smile.” Clasping both hands around one of his, she shook him gently. “I’m sorry to have given you so much cause to fret, Henry. I have no intention of departing this earth before I see the grandchildren you three bring me.”

“More reason to delay in their creation, then”—as he chuckled, she swatted the back of his hand—“if it should extend your life.”

“Such disobedience—”

His phone buzzed in a jerky dance against the side table.

Mother nudged him away. “Go on, darling. Turn out the light for me. Come back in later and check on me if you must. Make undignified notes about the volume of my snoring.”

“Only the most dignified of snores for you, Mother.” Bending across her, he tucked the blankets around her and kissed her forehead. “Nearly inaudible kitten purrs.”

“I did raise a charmer.” Settling down against the pillow, she closed her eyes. “Go charm your husband and wife, darling. I’ll be just fine here.”

Phone in hand, he dimmed the lights to a single nightlight near the doorway, left the door ajar, and crossed down the hall into the music room.

A text message from Jay awaited him, with a photo of—

“Dammit.” He swore quietly but vehemently and pinched the bridge of his nose. The days moved without a calendar beyond Mother’s appointments. Tonight’s gift was intended to be special, a bit of fun to whet Alice and Jay’s appetites.

A click of the floor lamp gave the room a hazy yellow glow. Enough light to see by; not enough to detract from the moonlit spectacle outside, the shimmering carpet of snowy gems. Sinking into the seat nearest the window, he noted the lack of a draft. Jay’s handiwork with the storm windows and weatherstripping accounted for that excellent seal.

The room held no evidence yet of Christmas. He hadn’t hauled out the decorations Mother always put up, the electric candles in the windows, the red bows and swag atop the drapery rods. The bare space at the curve of the piano waited for the Christmas tree to be chosen and cut and decorated.

Christmas was eight days away, and he was approximately eighty days behind. The room lacked the coziness of the season; his heart lacked its warmth. The flicker within him came from his gut, and it sharpened its claws with all the chaotic fervor of a kitten turning wallpaper to ribbons.

He’d forgotten the day’s card would lead Jay to such a prize. He ought to have used his brief visit to adjust the tempo, to contrive a series of new activities that wouldn’t require his presence—and that wouldn’t require him to miss the gifting of his presents. The night would not match his expectations no matter how he handled Jay’s request. The joy, the satisfaction he’d anticipated—Jay’s trembling excitement, Alice’s adventurous curiosity. All gone now.

He ought to have visited Mother at Thanksgiving as he did every other year. Surely he would have caught the signs and insisted upon a checkup. They might have headed off the cardiac event before it upended their lives and forced Mother into a lengthy, treacherous recovery. Those were dangerous times.

Jay was in such a time now, teetering between the clarity therapy could bring and the yawning gap that the family he once believed in used to occupy. Alice’s abandonment could easily have sent him spiraling, dwelling on his losses rather than the gifts the year had brought them.

Not abandonment. He shoved back forcefully against the word, against the recognition of Alice’s lifelong pattern of walking away from difficult situations. This wasn’t that. She had an obligation to her workplace as much as to her spouses, and casting his anger on her would be of no more benefit than growling at his brother for being so distant.

Tonight, Jay needed his master. A churning barrel of emotions would not serve. Irritation prickled his skin. Exhaustion weighed his eyelids. His own desires were modest: a shower longer than five minutes and uninterrupted sleep longer than an hour or two. He walked his own edge, dangerously close to outstripping his abilities. He could not afford mistakes; someone else would pay the price for them.

Find the constant .

The familiar prodding pushed him into deeper breaths as he closed his eyes, each exhale accompanied by a low huuuh . Drive out the tension, drive out the exhaustion, drive out the anger and the expectations and the desires. Jay was waiting for his response. Jay needed Master Henry, not Henry the chauffeur and schedule juggler and medication manager.

A kernel lay at the center of the maelstrom. He cupped his hands and lifted a morphing keepsake, shifting from the tidepool finds of his childhood to the stones of Jay’s collection and the flurry of notes and sketches Alice treasured. Warmth suffused him. His heart rate slowed and grew steady in his ears. The anger washed out on the tide of his breath. He cradled love in his palms. Jay needed evidence of that love. What could be more wondrous?

Eyes open, breathing calm, he initiated a video call.

Jay’s bright grin filled his screen. “Henry!”

Henry cast his gaze directly at the camera lens, pushing forward the heat of his love. “I’m pleased by how well you follow my instructions, Jay. Thank you for waiting.” With a slow blink, he tilted his head and allowed a soft smile. “Would you like to open your gift now?”

Jay tucked his chin, instinctively bowing his head, though he lifted his gaze toward the phone. “If it’s a good time. I know you’re real busy and you have a lot on your mind.”

Did he detect Alice’s light touch in that response? He’d been away more than a week; she undoubtedly would have been reassuring Jay that their dominant’s distraction was not a reflection upon their service.

“Time spent with my very good boy is a refreshment for my soul.” A furry line of white crossed Jay’s forehead, with a splash of red above. A bobble gave him a glimpse of bare collarbone before Jay righted the phone. “Show me how you’ve dressed for your game.”

The picture shifted slowly, first up and away, revealing a Santa hat perched slightly askew, then down his husband’s bare chest. Abdominal muscles flexed with his breaths. Familiar deep green boxer-briefs hid some of the finer points of Jay’s anatomy. He knelt on one of the large floor pillows, his knees parted, his feet tucked beneath his ass. “I can change if you want me to, Master Henry.”

Already this year Jay had changed in so many ways—but the lilt of his insecurities as they slipped from his mouth was not one of them.

“Not at all.” He stroked the phone case, a dismal substitute for Jay’s sleek heat. “You are lovely as you are, my pet. You’ve made an excellent choice. The box with your gift is in front of you?”

“Yes, on your chair.” Thighs flexed; Jay squirmed as he raised the camera once more. A finger obscured the view. “I can flip the phone around—”

“Not necessary. I know what the box contains.” The outcome of warring with himself, of the satisfaction of his ego. “I would much prefer to see your delightful face. Open the lid, Jay. Just that—leave what’s inside untouched for now, please.”

The camera jostled as Jay stretched forward, reaching beyond the frame. Sweet brown eyes widened, their gaze fixed past the phone. Jay’s mouth fell open; he swiped his tongue across his lips. “For me?”

“For you, my love.” The soft leather collar and cuffs matched the style of Jay’s harness and offered attachment points for leashes and restraints. More notably, all three elements were monogrammed. “All the experiences you’ve desired will be within your reach very soon.”

Such a shame Alice wouldn’t see her gifts yet. Would he have time Saturday to put them both to use? Surely not. After Christmas, then.

“Those are your initials.” Breathiness invaded Jay’s voice; hunger twitched at his lips. No tools were necessary to divine how strongly Jay ached to wear his gifts. “Branded.”

“Because you are mine.” The three pieces lay in a case designed to display them. He’d arranged them carefully, the D rings at the front, his initials forty-five degrees to the side and readable at sufficient distance. Were he in the room with Jay, he would be lifting the collar on his fingertips now. Fitting the buckle at the back of Jay’s neck, brushing aside Jay’s fine dark hair. “Trace the letters with your tongue, Jay.”

The phone tipped slightly. Jay, in profile, extended his tongue toward the leftmost cuff. With slow flicks, he traced the H and B and the larger W at the center. The phone restricted Henry’s view but not memory and imagination. Kneeling, Jay pressed forward. His hair split to either side of his nape. The strength of his shoulders and spine bowed in service to his chosen master. His ass flexed, his hips rocking gently. Jay had wrapped his mouth around Henry’s cock countless times in such a position.

Jay bypassed the collar in the center and traced the second cuff. His breathing flooded the speaker with rhythmic white noise.

“Do you smell the leather, Jay?” He kept his voice low, his tone bassy and resonant. “What does it remind you of?”

Pausing before the collar, Jay inhaled deeply. “You, Master Henry.”

“And you’ll smell of me when you wear these.” His pleased hum raised a shiver from his submissive, the shake audible in his breath. “The collar, now. Don’t neglect those letters as well.”

Jay whined softly as he traced the brand. That beautiful aching tenor so often ignited his master.

“Are you hard for me, Jay?” The full moon outside gave the world a hushed halo, intimate and vibrant. “Show me.”

“I am, Master Henry.” The phone tipped downward; the tented green shorts outlined Jay’s cock. “I miss your touch.”

“As I miss the sumptuous slide of your tongue,” he murmured. He’d started this game with none of the usual rituals, but he could not now leave it unfinished. Jay deserved more than teasing for his patience. “Show me more, dear one. Take out your cock and tuck your shorts under your balls.”

One-handed, Jay worked his waistband down. His cock sprang free.

“Stroke yourself. Slowly. Two fingers and thumb.”

Jay followed instructions exactly, his grip loose enough to slide easily and growing smoother as he slicked his hold on the tip of his cock.

“Mmm, precisely.” Beauty lay in the shifting shapes of light and shadow as Jay moved. “In the future, when we visit the club, you will wear your collar and cuffs.”

Jay’s racing breath grew into a whimper with every exhale.

“Everyone will know you are mine, Jay.” The wearing would accustom Jay to the feel and feed his desires regardless of any restraint they might actually provide. “They will see my claim written on your body, encircling you, my brave boy. My dearest one, Alice’s beloved pet.”

“Yours.” Jay breathed out his promise and his plea. “Show you.”

“Show me.” His raspy depths invited Jay only to obey. “Show me the pleasure I grant you, my sweet submissive.”

Jay’s hand blurred. Chest arched, hips thrusting, he splashed himself and groaned. The image tipped backward, providing a glimpse of his clenched eyes and open mouth before it toppled and revealed only the ceiling.

Several seconds passed.

“Oh shit.” A hand covered the lens. “Henry?” The view stabilized, Jay’s liquid gaze front and center. “Did I lose you?”

“Not in the least.” He’d succeeded in his endeavor if Jay no longer needed the security of master . “You delighted me. We’ll speak of other things tomorrow. For now, I want you to leave your gift on the chair. You may look and trace as often as you wish, but do not remove the pieces from their case. I wish to put them on you myself.”

Jay’s concern fell away; his lips shifted into a shy smile. “I’d like that.”

“Because you have behaved so well this evening, I would also like you to do two things for me.” A bit of advance planning never hurt, and he’d best take the opportunity before the deluge of other responsibilities again consumed him.

“Anything.”

Five years ago, he’d have taken Jay to task for such a response. “First, please check in with Alice tonight. You may share the details of our evening if you wish and assure her that her gift is waiting for her return.”

“I can do that.” The Santa hat must have slipped off in the excitement; Jay’s eyelashes fluttered as his hair swept across them. “What else?”

“In your wish book this week, please write for me how having the collar and cuffs makes you feel and what hopes you may have for their use.” He’d given Jay no prompt on Saturday, a grievous oversight. “I’ll grant you an extension on the assignment, should you need one.”

Jay’s grin outshone the moonlight off the snow. “I won’t need one. Thank you, Henry.”

“Be well, my dear boy. Is there anything you need from me before we say goodnight?”

Jay shook his head. “Just that you know I love you.”

“I do know,” he whispered, his voice unexpectedly thready. “As I love you, Jay.”

“Goodnight, Henry.”

“Goodnight, dearest.”

The call disconnected. He set the phone on the windowsill and rubbed his hands down his thighs. The impromptu scene had given Jay all he needed to ease his loneliness and fears. But although Henry had spoken no lies, and although fulfilling his submissives’ needs remained a great joy in his life, the evening’s play had not eased his own mind. Rather the opposite.

His cock lay completely limp, unmoved by either his love or his desire.

“Exhaustion, that’s all.”

He lacked even the energy to believe himself.